The Twilight Zone
by emily.down
Summary: Bella Swan gradually discovers that she's a fictional character. Now, she and Edward must find a way out of their hellish universe and become free. R&R.


_Yes, this is actually happening, I am writing a semi-parodic, semi-serious Twilight fanfic inspired by such classics as Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, The Truman Show and Stranger Than Fiction._

_Which means it will have both comedy and drama elements. If someone's written this kind of thing already or a similar story, sorry, I didn't know, but since this is my version, it's bound to be different. And funny. Hopefully.  
_

_Well, onto the story! Enjoy! (and review)_

* * *

_1: The Happening_

It happened one summer afternoon, near the end of June.

She was walking back home from the grocery store, carrying two bags of vegetables and toilet paper without a single care in the world, when she suddenly fell.

It was kind of rough.

She collapsed right on the sidewalk, the contents of her bags comically strewn all over her shirt and sweats.

She wouldn't have considered this a big deal if it had been one of those accidental falls.

But it hadn't. She rarely fell. And when she did, it usually had to do with some sort of obstacle standing in her way.

Now, she had somehow dropped down out of nowhere, almost like she had stumbled over her own feet.

Almost as if… she were clumsy.

Isabel Swan would have shrugged it off once she got home, because she never thought too much about silly things to begin with, she was a no-nonsense kind of person. But how could she shrug off what happened next?

* * *

The first thing she noticed was an unknown car in the parkway. Then, as she stepped inside the house, she heard the sound of an unfamiliar voice talking to her mother in the kitchen. The man, because it was a man, was using her first name as if they were on a first-name basis.

Isabel had no idea who this stranger was.

"I'm really stuffed, Renee, I can't take another bite, I swear!"

Her mother was standing over him at the table, trying to give him another helping of what appeared to be home-made lasagna. She even had a fork in her hand.

Her mother never made lasagna. And she never fork-fed strangers. Ever.

"Come on, you've barely touched your plate as it is. I'm beginning to think you don't like it!"

Isabel wrinkled her nose. Her mother never cared if anyone liked her food or not. She was too busy being a teacher and working part-time at the public library.

"How can you say that? I ate so much already! You really _are_ impossible with your cooking. How will I ever get to practice when I'm so full?" he asked, scolding her affectionately.

Isabel saw the way they looked at each other.

She needed to steady herself.

"Oh, hey, kiddo, you're back!" her mother almost shrieked in excitement when she saw her in the doorway. "Well, don't be shy, come in and put those bags down. I'd like you to meet someone."

Oh, good, maybe this was one of those kindergarten parents that wouldn't stop flirting with her. Things could get back to normal again.

"This is Phil Dwyer, as in Phil Dwyer of the Arizona League Brewers! You know, the minor league baseball team? He's quite the celebrity around town!"

Minor league baseball? Arizona League Brewers? Her mother had never had any interest in sports or men who played sports, much less baseball.

And how random of her to just introduce him as Phil Dwyer, _of the Arizona League Brewers_. Not to mention calling him a celebrity when she was actually flirting shamelessly. Shamelessly because Renee Swan would never call a man famous just to flirt.

Isabel eyed him warily.

"Hi, there…Phil. Nice to meet you."

Phil got up awkwardly and extended his hand towards her. Isabel stared at it for a while before shaking it.

"Hi, Bella. Likewise. Your mom told me so much about you. You seem to be her pride and joy. I hear you're top of your class."

Isabel looked at him questioningly. That was not true and her mother wasn't one to embellish. And why was this man calling her _Bella_?

"Did she tell you _that_? Well, she was being too generous. So, how did you - when did you two…" Isabel trailed off, hoping her mother would fill in the dots.

"Five hours ago!" Renee pitched in happily. "I was stranded out of town after the class trip and when he saw me standing in the road he was so nice to offer me a ride back home even though he would have to postpone his departure. I mean can you believe such a nice man even exists?"

Isabel had to be grateful to Phil for bringing her mother home safely, but in the whole of five hours they had gotten to know each other, call each other by their first names and her mom had somehow made lasagna for him, fed him at their own table and managed to fit in her daughter in the conversation too. There was something suspiciously surreal about this. She'd heard of chemistry and people connecting right away, even people falling for each other at first glance which was already ridiculous as it was, but this was preposterous.

Meanwhile, Phil kept undressing Renee with his eyes, which was becoming increasingly uncomfortable for her daughter.

"They say chivalry is dead, but they haven't met the Brewers!" Phil burst out cheerfully.

"They sure haven't! But you're probably the charming one anyway," her mother teased, smiling in his direction.

Was someone scripting this?

"I'm only charming around you, cuz it's hard to be anything else around a real lady. You must be proud of her, Bella."

Isabel's eyes widened as she stifled a smile. He was only charming around the woman he'd just met? And who even talked like that? Real lady? Was _he_ for real?

She decided there was something absolutely wrong about this. This wasn't her mother's usual behaviour, this wasn't _anyone_'s usual behaviour. Nor did this make any shred of sense.

Renee had been quietly dating another divorcee, a surgeon living close by, who was quite the opposite of Phil Dwyer.

Why would she suddenly go putty over this incredibly bland sportsman?

"I have to go to the bathroom," she announced unceremoniously and ran off towards her room.

Maybe it hadn't been polite, but she had to think this over. Her mother was almost dating a baseball player she had met five hours ago. And he definitely reciprocated her attraction.

Oh, boy.

She tripped again on her way up the stairs without even knowing why.

* * *

Three weeks later, they were getting married.

"Bella, how am I ever going to invite everyone I know? He'll have so many guests too! I don't want him to spend so much!" Renee would complain almost every night.

Isabel had to prevent herself from hitting her head against the table. Her mother had developed an irksome habit of calling her Bella, instead of Izzy.

It was driving her insane.

That and the fact that her mother was not only getting married to the baseball player, but Phil Dwyer wanted a Vegas wedding and Renee was all for it, including tacky dress and Scottish minister.

Maybe it was the beginning of that strange period in a woman's life called midlife crisis. Maybe she was getting bored and she wanted to shake things up. Maybe she thought Isabel needed a father figure. Maybe she was tired of mild escapades at her neighbour's, the surgeon.

Fine. That was all fine, Isabel thought.

But this was not her mother, this new, fretful, overly-excited, girlish, loud and just plain odd woman.

The worst part was that she seemed to be in a trance. Isabel would try to reason with her and for a moment there Renee would act like her own self again but a moment later she would revert to her new persona and deny anything she might've said previously, stating that her only desire now was to get married and fast.

Isabel felt as if someone was purposely separating her from her mother, placing a thick glass wall between them so that they wouldn't be able to hear each other.

More problematic even was the fact that she kept stumbling and falling down out of the blue in the most dangerous of places, getting her kneecaps scraped constantly, bruising her elbows or hitting her head against furniture.

It felt like a cruel joke. Someone was trying to weaken her by making her collapse every five seconds while her mother was being taken away from her.

* * *

A month later, Renee Swan was now Renee Dwyer and traveling with her new husband on a surprise honeymoon to Florida.

In the span of seventeen years, her mother had never once left her alone. This is not to say she wanted her mother by her side constantly. That would've driven them both insane and Renee deserved her space and happiness.

But that surprise honeymoon had been a surprise for _everyone_, including Isabel.

Her mother had left Vegas on the eve of her wedding with Phil without even telling Isabel where she was going and for how long. Isabel found out she was gone hours later. She had left a note. One lousy, brief, almost unintelligible note.

_Leaving for Florida with darling Phil. Backsoon. Love and kiss Bella. Renee. _

Charlie drove her back home.

On the way back to Arizona she was so upset and disappointed that not even her dad could cheer her up, although he was always such a soothing presence. He tried explaining to her why Renee would do such a thing, but he himself was at a loss for words. He was not as shocked and saddened as his daughter because he attributed Renee's instability to, yet again, midlife crisis, and his reaction upset Isabel even more. She had expected him to be just as enraged and confused. And here she was, the only one seemingly aware of the madness surrounding her.

She kept reliving the horrible wedding ceremony in her mind; the flashy colours, the dancing quilts, the cacophonic music, the champagne flowing down Phil's chin as Renee poured a bottle into his mouth and kissed him.

Then they took family photos. Renee squeezed Isabel between her and Phil. And then she asked her daughter to dance with Phil while she took photos. She had to comply and they ended up dancing to a jazzy song while Phil kept bending her across the room as if she were made of rubber.

Then Phil almost stripped naked on a dare halfway through the evening as a wedding gift for Renee.

Debauchery didn't even begin to describe that night.

"Listen, why don't you stay with me for a while? Until your mom's settled with her new guy? I mean newlyweds need some time to be alone," Charlie offered, seeing as her sour expression hadn't changed in the last two hours.

"_Clearly_. They just got up and left," Isabel muttered. "No point in talking face to face."

"Hey, I thought we talked about this, _Bella_. Your mom needs a real honeymoon, I couldn't afford to give her one back then and –"

"My name is Isabel, why do you keep calling me Bella? Why does everyone call me that?" she asked exasperated. When had this sudden term of endearment caught on?

Charlie sighed and tried explaining again, as if she had just said something redundant.

"So now she needs to live that dream she never had. She'll come back soon. She knows you're with me now. She'll come back soon."

Isabel was about to reply that even if her mother did come back soon, she knew she and Phil wouldn't stay long because she had overheard the latter complain to Renee about his having to travel a lot and not being able to spend time with her after they got married, so she envisaged seeing her mother once every five months.

But right when she was about to vent her anger, a sudden buzzing behind her stopped her.

It was like a low hum, a feverish whisper coming from afar, tickling her ear. Like an insect prodding inside, trying to reach her eardrum.

She shuddered in disgust and turned around nervously. She hoped there was no raccoon or rat trying to find shelter in their car. There was no one in the backseat. She looked out the window. Nothing but trees and the dark summer sky.

After a couple of minutes, the buzzing subsided. But there was still a dim echo in the air that made her question her sobriety. She had barely drunk some wine for decorum's sake. Had it gone to her head?

* * *

When she got back home and her father left for Forks, Washington, she almost wanted to go with him.

But she waved goodbye gloomily, shut the door and stumbled, as was the case now, to her bedroom, where she fell on her bed with a soft thud.

It was almost August now. Two months ago everything had been so different.

The buzzing began anew.


End file.
